iThink I Might Love You
by imagine.life.sweeter
Summary: Carly wanted to know what that kiss was like. They hadn't really thought about it. Now they're faced with their feelings. A lot of Seddie. Please read & review. Rated T 'cause I don't know where this is going. FINAL CHAPTER IS UP!
1. iRun

**I think iThink They Kiss has inspired so many fanfics.**

**Including this one ;)**

**But it's just too cute not to write about.**

***

After _finally_ getting released from the duct tape by Spencer, we all brushed ourselves off. My eyes didn't leave my sneakers. Carly wanted to know how that kiss was. The one thing in our friendship- all three of our friendship- that she was never supposed to know.

It was awesome, amazing. Nine (yeah, it was nine) seconds where I felt important, like I belonged with someone.

But that someone turned out to be Freddie.

That dork. He just _had_ to make me fall in love with him, didn't he? He loved Carly, I loved him, Carly liked what's-his-name from biology. The main point was, we're not supposed to be together. Period. Plain and simple. No Freddie-and-Sam.

"Well..." Carly pushed. Not gonna look up from my sneakers, not gonna look up from my sneakers.

"It was nice," Freddie said simply.

"Yeah, nice," I mumbled, trying to end the conversation. I made the mistake of looking up from my sneakers. My cheeks were much redder than they should have been. I shook my blonde curls out. "You know, it's getting kind of hot in here."

"Maybe you should take your sweater off," Carly suggested.

"I think I'll get some fresh air. On the roof." I was across the apartment and out the door in an instant. Footsteps followed behind me, but I tried to outrun them. I was nearly at the top of the stairs to the roof when I heard them call out.

"Sam, you know it's illegal to go out there." Freddie smiled at me from the bottom.

"Whatever." I opened the door to the roof. The Seattle winds pierced my skin like a billion needles, but it wasn't a match for my aching heart. I heard the door swing open again. I turned around, biting my lip. "I thought you didn't break the rules, Benson." He smirked at me.

"I thought you didn't run out on your best friends. I thought you were braver than that." He stuck his hands in his pockets and looked at me with those big brown eyes of his. I turned away to face the skyline. If I kept staring at him, I was going to lose myself. But he didn't leave like I thought he would.

He stepped up next to me.

"What's the matter Sam?"

"You know what the hell the matter is." Oh crap. Not tears, not tears. I never thought I was going to face these problems. I thought I was tough. But no. I have a soft spot for a techie guy with a big heart.

And really big eyes that were staring into mine at that moment. My watery blue eyes. A single tear fell. That's when he knew.

I felt his hand slip into mine.

I felt my willpower to call him "dork" and "Fredweird" and anything else I could think of shrinking.

I felt my heart growing.

I felt myself lean in.

I felt his arm around me.

I felt his lips on mine.

***

**Do you like it? Should I continue? Review & lemme know.**

**xo, Chantal**


	2. iRoof

**I'm baaaaaaack!**

**Did you miss me?**

**I hope you did. I missed you :)**

***

I felt her lips brush against mine, just as soft as they had been that night on my fire escape. Man, she was so perfect. All this time, I thought I would be saying those words about Carly.

Turns out I was saying them about Sam.

I had never considered it until after that night, when she put herself in teasing-but-so-not-teasing shot by admitting that she'd never kissed anyone on iCarly. She had done it for me. That guy she called "Fredweird" and "doodlebrain" and whatever she was in the mood to call me.

And somehow I fell in love with her. I thought I had brains. I guess the heart overrules smarts in some areas of life.

Our lips parted, foreheads resting against one anothers. I opened my mouth to say something, but then I heard the door to the roof swing open again. I pulled back slightly from Sam and corssed my eyes, praying she'd follow my lead.

"See Sam? that's how you can tell if you have peanut butter on your nose!" I said. She giggled and covered her mouth, her blonde curls a mess around her face. Carly stood at the top of the stairs.

"Hello? Roof? Are guys trying to get yourselves arrested?" She motioned for us to follow her down the stairs. We did.

But not before brushing hands.

Back in Carly's apartment, she started yelling at us about how it's illegal to go out on roofs and that we should know better. I opened my mouth to talk, but Sam beat me to it.

"I... I was kind of upset that it wasn't my Uncle Robert that escaped from jail. Fredwacko here was just trying to cheer me up. It didn't work." She cocked her head at me after talking at gave me a quick smile that Carly didn't see. I just raised my hands and shrugged.

"Whatever," Carly said, "Just don't do it again. Lewbert already hates us for blasting his wart off."

"I know, I know," Sam said, making her way to the fridge.

"What are you looking for?" I asked, even though I knew the answer.

"Bacon. Bacon always makes Mama feel good."

***

**Sorry it was short, but it's eleven thirty at night while I'm typing this. Please click the magic green button and review!**

**xo, Chantal**


	3. iText

**Hey there! Two months is a long break, isn't it? Whoops. But if you read my Bones story, you'd know I moved to England for baording school, hence the lack of updates! But here I am. I hope you like this.**

***

I slammed my locker door and turned around. Sam and Freddie had been acting awfully weird these past few weeks. They seemed, I don't know, secretive. I guess they were still weirded out about the whole kissing thing. I was.

"Hey Carls!" Sam shouted, coming up from behind me. She had a turkey leg in one hand, an Algebra book in the other. She brushed her blonde hair out of her eyes, which was actually brushed and neat for once. And her purple and black "Eye Spasms" penny tee looked clean.

"Did you actually do your homework?" I ask, motioning to the graph paper sticking out of it. She smiles and shakes her head.

"No way. Mamma had Gibby do it." I laugh and give her a hug. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe she hasn't changed. We walk off to biology class, where there's a new teacher, Miss Zuckert waiting for us. Our other teacher, Mrs. Ulchie, left on maternity leave, thank goodness. She was a wacko.

"Hey, me chicas!" says Freddie waving at us. There's something about him now that's different - he's more confident. I don't know why, but it's nice. He's not afraid to stand up to Sam any more, and there's some pretty witty banter going on. It's been blogged on iCarly now, and it's pretty popular. People like it and post topics for them to talk about. We've covered loads of things and brought up some interesting topics - bones versus jello, anyone?

"Hi everybody! I'm Miss Zuckert, I'll be your teacher for the next few months," said the petite redhead from the front of the room. "I don't know your names all that well, so I put you in a random, non-alphabetical order so it's harder for me to know your name." She chuckles and starts to point out seats. Ew, she sat me next to Germy, er, Jeremy.

"Sam Puckett, Freddie Benson," she says, pointing to two lab stools. No fair! Why do those two get to sit next to each other? They grab their bags and sit down. Sam twinkles her fingers from across the room and laughs. I feel my phone buzz in my pocket with a text.

SAMPUCKZ: ha, easy cheat spot  
MISSSHEA: plz dont! u will get in truble!  
SAMPUCKZ: yea. rite.  
MISSSHEA: behave!

I see her whisper in Freddie's ear and show him the texts on her phone. Since when are they so close? My pocket buzzes with another text.

FBENSON: thanx  
MISSSHEA: no prob. whats up?  
FBENSON: not much, got the hell seat ;)  
MISSSHEA: sam isn' bad!  
FBENSON: i kno  
MISSSHEA: do u really, freddie? do u really?  
FBENSON: i might ;)

***

**Please review! And feel free to message me with ideas you'd like to see. It'll it make it easier to tailor this to my fanbase, which will be helpful due to my limited writing time.**

**xo, Chantal**


	4. iOffer

**Oh my goodness, bless my older sister Bella. She made me a copy of iQuit iCarly and emailed it to me this morning, since she knows new episodes air months later in England. I love that girl to death! My favorite Seddie moment was when Spencer pulls Carly and Freddie pulls Sam in from the window. It was subtle, yes, but I felt it was meaningful. What was yours?**

***

"Aaaaand next on iCarly, please enjoy this preview of . . ." Carly starts off. She looks at me and smiles. We jump up in the air and shout "ASHLEY'S SCHOOL REDO!" Freddie clicks a few keys and our fake trailer plays. It's a ripoff of 'Tabitha's Salon Takeover' and it was so fun to make. We filmed it Tuesday after school with Gibby, Spencer, Fleck, Dave, and Principal Franklin. It was crazy-fun to do - we had strobe lighting, spray painting on old lockers, a dance party with a bunch of our friends as students, a dessert fight, etc. The video is three minutes long, which gives us a good moment to relax. Suddenly, Freddie bolts for his laptop to swich back to his main camera.

"And if you liked that, be sure to check out all the super-cool behind-the-scenes footage right here, at ! That's all the time we have this week," I say.

"So watch a lot of junk TV!"

"Eat a kumquat!"

"Buy yourself a fedora! BYE!"

"And we're clear!" We all high five and laugh and congratulate ourselves on a good show. Spencer appears a moment later, out of breath with a hammer. We all jump back a step.

"Trying give me a heart attack?" Carly asks, pointing to her brother's hammer.

"NOOOO! But a producer from the eTeen Awards is on the phone and wants to talk to you!" he pants. We all bolt of the door and I make it out first. We're downstairs in two seconds flat, and I put the phone on speakerphone so we all can talk to the producer. The eTeen Awards are some of the biggest web awards, even bigger than the iWeb Awards.

"Hello?" Carly says tentatively.

"Hi there, iCarly. I'm Michelle Orsen, a producer of the eTeen Awards. iCarly is a very popular show . . ." I begin to zone her out. She's just blabbing on and on about how amazing we are, the 2O1O eTeen Awards is going to be big, yadah yadah, yadah. I head over to her fridge and pull out the cold beef stew I have waiting for myself. I take it back over to Carly and Freddie.

"So why exactly are you calling?" Freddie asks.

"the eTeen Awards wants you three to host," Michelle says. I drop the bowl of stew onto the floor, stunning.

"Oh my god! Really?" Carly exclaims. Michelle assures us that we would be the best hosts, as we're the "new generation of web stars" that would make it even better than it already is.

"Will there be steaks backstage?" I ask.

"Of course."

"Then I'm in!" I laugh. Freddie punches me lightly in the arm and I smile back at him. Michelle promises to fax us the contracts and other details in the morning. When we hang up, all we can do is scream and jump up and down. After a moment, Carly stops and looks at us very seriously.

"Smoothies?"

***

**Okay, please review! Thankies very muchies!**

**xo, Chantal**


	5. iStrawberries

**Hmmm . . . guess who's back across the Atlantic for Christmas? MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! I couldn't be happier =) Thus a Seddie date scene to express my happiness! It's gonna be short, so you have been warned . . .**

***

After we had gone for our traditional post-iCarly smoothies and discussed how awesome hosting the eTeen Awards was going to be, I parted ways with Carly and Sam. Well, sort of. I faked going into my apartment and Sam faked going home while Carly _really_ did go home. Sam went to our favorite rooftop while grabbed the chocolate-dipped strawberries and blanket from my apartment.

"Sam?" I called tentatively, looking around.

"Over here." I followed her voice to see her silhouette against the glowing Seattle skyline. I sat down next to her.

"I come bearing strawberries." I held the plate up and smiled. She leaned forward on her elbows and kissed me before taking a strawberry. Wow, Sam Puckett chose me before food. Who would have ever thought that day would come?

We sat up on the rooftop for over an hour, almost in silence. Some might argue that it was stupid, but something in that silence told me that Sam really loved me. She didn't have to be goofy, she didn't have to be rude, she's didn't have to inflict pain on anyone. She just had to sit there and eat strawberries with me, wrapped up in a white chenille blanket. I sort of fingered her curls; they were soft and girly, much unlike the rest of her. But she was Sam, and I guess you could say she was mine.

"Freddie," she murmured into my chest, snuggling closer. I kissed her atop her head.

"Yeah?"

"I think I might love you." She squirmed slightly away, giving her better access to my mouth. We kissed. We kissed much more passionately than I had ever kissed anyone before. Sam leaned into me, so much she was practically sitting in my lap. I wrapped my arms around her tight and didn't let go for a very long time.

When we did part, we were both breathless. When I finally found my voice, I said to her words I never thought I would say.

"I think I might love you too, Sam. I think I might love you too."

***

**I don't think I'll be posting again before Christmas, so happy holidays everyone!**

**xo, Chantal**


	6. iSurprise

**Dance just seems to consume me these days . . . I barely had an hour to watch Just Jennette weekend once my lovely sister Bella (I heart you, B!) sent it to me. I'm swamped with rehearsals (I got a principle role in our term's ballet) and prep work and upcoming exams. But here we have a chapter! Shoosh yeah . . .**

***

"Coming!" I shouted, running to answer the door. I was in such a good mood, nothing could ruin it. I mean, it's my birthday _and_ it's a Friday _and_ Spencer bought me a new flat iron! **[A/N: I don't know when Carly's birthday is, so I picked January 15th, aka tomorrow.]** I pull the door open and it's Freddie.

"Happy birthday!" he says, giving me a hug. He hands me a tiny, impectably wrapped purple-and-silver box. I cup it in my hands - it seems delicate. "Can I open it now?" I ask. "Please?" He shakes his head and sits down on my couch.

"Jesus, Shea. Trying to open your presents _before_ iCarly?" I turn around.

"SAM!"

"Happy birthday, kiddo. Sweet sixteen, can you believe it?" she asks, handing me a gift bag. I try to peer past the polka dotted tissue paper to see the gift inside. "Eh, eh, eh . . . wait until after we go to the movies!" she laughs. "Oh. Hey Freddifer." She brushes past him to the kitchen and opens the fridge.

"Sam, we don't have, like, any food. Spencer forgot to go to Shop Lite again," I said, taking in her outfit: pink off-the-shoulder ruffly dress, zebra print leggings, black suede ankle boots . . . she keeps on surprising me, that girl. She's actually doing some homework, showing up on time for rehersals, buying her own smoothies - she's completely transformed. And for the better.

"Guys, we have, like, three minutes until showtime. We've gotta go," Freddie points out.

"Kay." We troop upstairs and take our marks. Freddie tosses Sam her remote and begins to count down.

"OKay, in five, four, three, two . . ."

***

"Nice show, guys," Spencer shouts from his bedroom when he hears us come downstairs. "THANKS!" I shout back. "We're going to see a movie. We'll be back later, 'kay?" He appears in his doorway, hair still wet from the shower. He has a spatula in one hand, an apple in the other.

"Be back by, like, ten. Okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," we chorus as we walk out the door. Priax Cinemas is only a couple blocks from my apartment building, so we walk over and buy tickets to see _The Lovely Bones_. We settle into the plush movie seats and watch some corny romcom previews over gooey popcorn and sour worms. And then the movies starts and I'm hooked. I love Saorise Ronan - she's an amazing actress and did a great job playing Susie. I can't believe how quickly the two hours go by.

"Not a bad movie, Carls. Nice choice," Sam says as we head back home. A couple snowflakes are starting to fall. I can't help but laugh. My birthday couldn't be any more perfect. Lewbert is sleeping when we enter the lobby, so we tiptoe past him and run up the stairs.

"Sam, you staying over?" I ask, turning the key in the lock to my house. She shrugs. "Sure, why not?" And then I hear a loud mass of people shout, "SURPRISE!" My mouth drops open as half the grade just appears in my house.

"Oh. My god. You guys did this? Without killing each other?" I ask, hugging Sam and Freddie. They look at each other and smile. Sam shrugs.

"Surprise. Happy sweet sixteen."

***

**:) Please review. I've got a costume fitting to head off to.**

**Peace & kisses, Chantal**


	7. iPhotos

**There are no words to describe how tired I am right now. (I think I say that a lot.) But I'm not going to leave you another month chapterless. We're gonna hear some more about those eTeen Awards mentioned in chapter four.**

***

"Wow, this is so cool" Carly exclaimed as we stepped into the Master's Theater. She was right - this place was serious chizz: velvet seats, mahagony wood stage floors, real gold detailing . . . it had to have cost a fortune to build. This place was brand new and the eTeen Awards were going to be the first thing to happen here. "Yoohoo! Over here, iCarly!" shouted a woman with ash blonde hair and artsy purple glasses from by one of the side doors.

Spencer extended his hand to her. "I'm Spencer Shay, Carly's older brother." She smiled warmly at us. "Well, it's a pleasure to meet you guys. I'm Michelle Orsen; we spoke on the phone." She tosses the clementine she has in her hand back and forth. It's very distracting when you haven't eaten in the past hour.

"Yeah. It was super-nice of you guys to ask us to host," Carly gushes, straightening out her argyle skirt. Freddie and I nod in agreement while Michelle waves her hand dismissively. "It was nothing. We only want the best for our awards show. Speaking of that, we need to get these photos done today." She leads us through a bunch of hallways, where she unlocks a room with her pass key.

I can't help but express my shock. "Woah. That's pretty cool," I say, gesturing to the whole photo shoot set-up. Racks of clothing, makeup artists, a photographer, and a hair stylist are waiting around for us. They jump up to greet us. A skinny freak of a girl shows me to my rack. "Choose whatever you'd like, and then Rochelle will get you ready," she says and then is gone. Freddie and Carly peer around from behind their racks.

"What are you wearing, Carls?" I ask. I have no idea what to wear; maybe she can help me. Clothing is not exactly my forte.

She smiles and comes over to paw through my rack. She stops at a silky black halter top and hands it to me, followed by bright red skinny jeans, black high tops with purple laces, and a purple silk headband. "Wear this. You'll look great." I trust Carly's opinion, so I duck behind the canvas curtain and slip on the clothes. I peer at myself in the mirror. I look pretty darn hot.

The woman I assume is Rochelle sits me down in a leather chair to do my hair, which is soon perfectly smooth and tucked under the headband Carly had given me. "Zachary will do makeup," she grunts as a guy with a kind smile waves an eyebrow brush in the air. "Ah, the internet's famed badass," he says, reaching for his spray foundation. "How are you today, Sam?"

"I'm good. Feeling kind of prissy, but good."

"Prissy?"

"I'm not one to dress up for the camera."

"Yet here you are."

"Here I am." We're all finished soon enough and Carly rushes ahead onto set. I'm behind her, but then I feel a breath on my neck. "You look hot," Freddie whispers in my ear. I blush lightly and give him a quick smile, seeing as Carly is right there.

"C'mon Benson," I say, stepping up next to Carly. "I wanna get this photo shoot over with. I hear there's a great rib place down the street!"

***

**Please review! Do it for the children . . .**

**xo, Chantal**


	8. iCoding

**Why hello there. It surprisingly hasn't been that long since I updated :) I'm getting better at this! Hahaha. This chapter has some Seddie fluff, with a little reminder that their relationship is a secret . . . **

***

I stand behind my camera and laugh as Gibby squirms under Carly and Sam's paintbrushes. But I have to say, he did bring this upon himself by agreeing to do the show. So Gibby became our human mural. I glance at my watch. "TIME!"

"Okay, I'll show mine first!" Carly chirps. She reveal the front of Gibby, which is covered in a painting of a park, with flowers curling down his arms and a fountain spurting from his bellybutton. She turns to Sam. "See if you can beat that."

Sam rocks back and forth on her heels. "I don't know Shay. That looks pretty darn good . . . buuuut I think mine is better." She turns Gibby around, where there's a silhouette of a couple walking into the sunset while eating meat sticks. "I think that's a nice one."

Carly sticks her face in the camera. "But now it's up to you, America. See there, right below our pictures on the home page, where it says votw now?"

"Well click it!" Sam shouts.

"And you can decide who's human mural is better: mine or Sam's!"

"So vote, you nubs!"

"Vote. Vote. Vote!" I smile and back away from the two of them, who are saying 'vote' in odd voices. "Aaand we're clear!" I shout, hooking my camera back onto the cart, "Great show you two. Hey Gibby, as soon as I get these pics you can wash off in the bathroom." I snap a few quick shots with my digital camera. Gibby lets himself out of the studio, rubbing at the paint covering his body. Carly hovers by the door, hand on the knob.

"Do you guys want lemonade?" she asks.

"Is it your special lemonade?"

"No."

"Then okay." She dashes out the door. I can hear her, singing away and talking to Spencer downstairs. My guess is that was me and Sam had a few minutes.

"So, uh, whatcha doin'?" Sam asks, pointing to my monitor. I was in the middle of uploading the mural pictures and coding them, but she wouldn't care about that at all. Instead of answering, I pull her closer and kiss her on the lips. Sam surprisingly doesn't pull away, but instead she kisses me back. It was one of those types of kisses in romantic comedies (my mom makes me watch them with her) where neither person doesn't want to come up for oxygen, so it seems to last forever. After maybe a minute, Sam tries to stop.

"Freddie... we... shouldn't... here..." she manages between my kisses. "Carly's... downstairs." I stop, reluctantly. Sam's right - we can't do this here.

"Okay." I turn back to my coding and Sam sits down on a beanbag chair facing me. She's twirling her hair around her finger and it's so cute it's become a major distraction. I try not to look up but do every few seconds. Sam opens her mouth to say something to me, but Carly bursts back in at that moment with our drinks.

"I also brought up some caramel corn. I figured we could finish planning next week's iCarly," she says. Sam reaches for the bowl. "Uh, sure. Don't see why not." She then smiles evily and says in a baby voice, "Freddifer, will it be okay with your mommy if you stay up late?" She winks at me.

I shut down my laptop. "Only if I'm chillin' with my girls," I laugh, flopping down on the final bean bag. "Where should we start?"

***

**That's my chapter with some Seddie fluff . . . I hope y'all liked it. Let me know if you have any ideas for this story!**

**xo, Chantal**


	9. iApologize

**Hi everyone. I hope y'all still remember my name (beeteadubs, it's Chantal) since it's been so long. But honestly, writing has been the farthest thing from my mind.**

**As many of you know, I'm studying dance (my focus is modern pointe) at a boarding school across the pond in England. My family, friends, and TV shows are all mainly based in New York. But with my choreography competition coming up, alongside my finals, term papers, and a new boyfriend (hi, Greg!), I think you can imagine how busy my life is. I simply have had no time to sleep, let alone long on the FF and write for three stories. It's depressing to watch my FF folder in my email grow and grow with stories I need to catch up on and semi-threats as to why I haven't added chapters in two months.**

**Please don't kill me. Legit.**

**As soon as I'm home for the summer, on June 27th, I swear on my life that I will begin reupdating. Most likely, I'll rotate on a schedule between Out of the Lab, iThink I Might Love You, and A Game of Music - whatever it will be, I'll try my best to stick with it. Just hang on until then.**

**Thanks for being so understanding. I'd hate to lose my readership. I love you guys :)**

**xo, Chantal**


	10. iPoster

**I'm back and (hopefully) better than ever! I'm so glad to be home (a lot gladder than I thought I would be) and back to my writing (duhh). So here we go!**

"Sam! Freddie! Look, the poster's up!" I squeal, slamming my locker shut. They both look up from their copies of _To Kill A Mockingbird_ and follow my finger to the massive blow-up of the eTeen Awards poster that Principal Franklin insisted on hanging up. He was so proud to hear that three of his most promising students had recieved such an honor of hosting an awards show (and four nominations this year).

"Wow. Cool chiz," Sam says. Freddie glances over, mutters something, and goes back to reading. I slide down the row of lockers and sit down next to him.

"Is something wrong?" I ask. He peels another sticky note off of his pad and slaps it on the page he's reading.

"I'm fine."

"Oh. Okay then," I say, even though I can sense something is wrong. After all, I've been his best friend for years. I can tell something is wrong with him. Maybe his mom made him take a tick bath last night and he's still pissed off about it. Before I can say anymore to him, the bell rings. Freddie grabs his backpack in an instant and stands up.

"I've gotta get to pre-calc. See you guys later." His messy mop of hair dissappears into the crowd. I gather up all my stuff and stand up, as does Sam. Suddenly, a girl I regonize from my History class approches the two of us. "Hey Carly. Hey Sam," she says, "Nice poster. How much they pay you to do _that_, Sam?" We both look back over to the poster; its definetly the cheekiest of all the shots we took: Freddie in the middle, Sam and I each giving him a kiss on the cheek.

"Ehh, it's all part of the work. After all, who _wouldn't_ want to kiss Freddie Benson?" Sam shoots back, her voice oozing with sarcasm. The girl looks taken aback and walks away without another word.

"You couldn't have been nice to her?" I ask as we climb the stairs to the second floor. If we don't pick up the pace, we're going to be late for French class. Sam shrugs.

"I don't like it when people assume things."

"Yeah, I know. Oh, and did anything seem weird with Freddie today? He seemed sorta . . . upset."

"I thought he was fine. Why?"

"I dunno. He just was kind of distant with me," I reply, taking my French binder out of my tote bag.

"Freddie's fine. Stop worrying," Sam reassures me. Even though I don't believe her, I shut up. Our teacher then begins to babble on (en Francais) about the imperfect tense and I attempt to figure out what she's saying while taking down notes. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I see Sam reach down and take out her phone. She silently turns it on. She waits for it to load. She selects contacts. She picks Freddie's name out of the list. She texts him.

I can read the text from here.

Oh my God.

I think I might faint.

**Oooooh . . . so what did it say? I'm gonna be mean. I'm not going to tell you! Teehee. But please review! The faster you review, the faster I'll reupdate ;)**

**xo, Chantal**


	11. iRehearse

**So . . . have you guys been hanging off your chairs in suspense? I sure hope so. That was my intent.**

"So Carly, we're not that great at drama, are we?" I say, reciting my eTeen Awards script from memory. Carly pokes me in the ribs playfully, then twirls a lock of her freshly straigtened hair.

"Oh, I don't know Sam. We've put on some great dramas on iCarly," she laughs, her voice full of half-sarcasm.

"Yeah, but these guys really know how to put on a show," says Freddie. "They add the secrets, the lies, and unknown children to our lives on the web"

The nominees for best Web Drama are . . . The Moonlight Saga . . . New London . . . Half Life . . . and Brought to Life," I add, pausing carefully between each nominee so the eTA tech guys can flash their cast pictures onto the giant screen behind us. With the big night just two weeks away, we're in rehearsals almost every day after school. Not that I mind. It's an excuse to not go home or do homework. But it hasn't left me much time to talk to Freddie either. He still won't agree with me and has been acting tense since our little spat last week.

"And the winner is . . ." says Carly, pretending to open the envelope we'll have at the show. We all lean into the microphone. "Half Life," we chime in unision, then clap like all great awards show hosts do. I'm actually getting into the spirit of the show now. Then again, maybe it's because we have four noms.

Michelle stands up from her seat and claps excitedly. "That was great you guys! Just super. Why don't you take a five minute break while I talk to the lighting guys and then we'll run through the second half." The three of us let ourselves down the stairs once she walks away.

"I have to go to the bathroom," Carly says, walking up the aisle. "Be back in a flash!" I watch her hot pink ruffled top disappear into the darkness of the back of the auditorium, then turn to Freddie.

"We have to talk," I say flatly. He sits down.

"So talk." I sit down in the seat next to him

"Dude, this is a bad idea, keeping it a secret from her." Freddie leans in towards me. He smells like peppermint and orange Tic Tacs.

"I don't think she's ready to know, Sam." His voice is practically a whisper, and he keeps glancing around, even though no one is anywhere near us. I lean my head in closer.

"It's serious chiz, Freddie-bear," I say - in my normal tone- using my new nickname for him, "You saw how mad she got when she found out we kissed and didn't tell her. Imagine how much her heart would be broken if she found out that we had been dating behind her back!" We both hear the drop of a Diet Cherry Peppy Cola can. We look up to see Carly standing there, a look of disbelief on her face.

"You guys are . . . dating?" she exclaims. I can tell if she's mad, upset, excited, or pissed. Most likely, it's a combination of all four.

But even more likely, Freddie and I are so dead.

**Okay, SYTYCD is on! I must go watch, but review your pants off!**

**xo, Chantal**


	12. iKnock

**Whoops. It's been like a month again, hasn't it? After Hawaii, I went to the beach & Washington (the capital, not the state) and yes, I did forget my charger. So in my defense: I tried. But here we go.**

"Caaaarly. Open the door!" Sam says, rapping her knuckles against the Shay's door. We've been at it for an hour with no response, except for one angry outburst of "GET AWAY FROM MY FREAKIN' DOOR!" After a few moments, Sam lets her hand fall to the floor.

"Freddie?"

"Yeah?" I say, looking up from my history textbook. I was trying to get some homework done in my non-knocking time, but it's really distracting when your hot girlfriend is sitting right next to you, looking adorable while trying to do some math problem that she doesn't get because she was sleeping in class. It's the little things, like the way her nose scrunches up when she's unsure if she got it right, that really get me going.

"She's not going to come out and talk to us tonight."

"I don't think she is going to come out and talk to us tonight."

"Really?"

"REALLY!" comes from inside the door. Suddenly, it swings open, and Carly is standing right inside the house. "NOW, I AM - " Sam holds up one finger, motioning for Carly to stop.

"Why are you still shouting?"

"Oh. Right." Carly stops and giggles for a second. "Right. Now, I am only opening this door to show you the international sign of not talking to you. I need more time to . . . adjust." And with that, she slams her door closed. Sam and I look at each other for a moment and gather up all of our junk that's been cluttering the hallway and walk into my apartment. She pauses in the foyer.

"Is something wrong?" I ask, dumping our stuff on the dining room table.

"Is your mom home?"

"No. She's at an Aggressive Parenting workshop until nine o'clock tonight," I say, walking over to the couch.

"Well okay then." She walks in and sits down on the couch next to me. We order Chinese food (pork egg rolls for her, hot and sour soup for me) and pop in a movie that Sam picked out. _Gory IV: Revenge of Death_ is a favorite of hers. Not surprising.

Twenty minutes later, there are empty takeout cartons on the coffee table and I've experienced more blood loss than the time my mom got me that home DNA kit. Suddenly, Sam edges towards me and buries her head in my shoulder.

"Woah. You okay?" I ask, wrapping one arm around her. She looks up at me, her hair covering half her face.

"I hate this part," Sam whispers.

"I thought this was a favorite movie of yours."

"Yeah," she says, looking up at me with wide eyes, "but there was never anyone there to protect me when I got scared." In that single moment of vulerability, Sam has shared more with me than she has in the years I've known her as a friend.

I give her a soft kiss on the forehead. Soon, the movie is all but background noise as Sam and I make out on the couch. We could be here all night, not that I'm complaining. (I'm not complaining at all!) It's amazing how a few weeks can really change a person or two.

We don't even notice when the front door opens. Our mistake, I guess. Because then we're greeted with a shriek of "WHAT THE HONEYDEW? FREDDIE, WHERE'S MY SPRAY?"

**Hahaha. Does anyone know what Dan Schnieder show the international sign of not talking is from? Each person who gets it right gets to name an eTeen Award! Yay!**

**xo, Chantal**


	13. iFitting

**Guess where I am? The airport . . . my flight for London leaves in ninety minutes, but my mother likes us to get there early (she was going to be in England anyway for a business trip, so that worked out well). So I'm giving you guys my last US-written chapter of this story for ages.**

"I'll see you at three, okay kiddo?" Spencer says through his rolled-down window. He just drove me to the dress shop, where me and Sam are having the final fittings for our eTeen outfits. I'm hoping we're in separate rooms; I still don't know what to say to her.

"Yeah, I'll see you then." He drives off and I walk inside, where I find two ladies in their mid-thirties pinning the hem of Sam's dress. As much as I hate her at the moment, she looks gorgeous. Even better than all the times I've dressed up in my clothes. The dress she's wearing is white and strapless with a piecey skirt that's dotted with silver sequins, and I can tell she loves it on herself. As she turns so that one of the designers can pin the other side of her dress, she sees me standing in the doorway and her face falls slightly.

"Oh, uh, hi Carly," she says, stepping down from the little pedestal she was just on. The designers excuse themselves to fetch my dress. Sam stares down awkwardly at her bare feet. I take a few steps towards her. "Can we talk?" I ask. It's been nearly a week, so maybe we can talk. Maybe.

"Yeah, totally." Sam sits down on the floor and crosses her legs. I sit down next to her, and take off my boots.

"Listen, I wanted to tell you Carls. I really did. It's just, it was all so new and Freddie wasn't sure how you'd handle it and honestly I wasn't sure how you'd handle it. But you know . . . we just really didn't think in this whole situation. I'm sorry," Sam babbles, playing with the hem of her dress. I take in what she said. Her apology sounds genuine, too.

"I think maybe I was the immature one in this situation," I admit. Sam looks at me. "But what did you do?" she asks.

"I sorta saw you send a text to Freddie the other day but I didn't talk to you about it and figured that I was just crazy . . . and then I was a total baby when I heard your private conversation and acted like a total bitch inside the door when you and Freddie tried to talk and . . ." I start to say, but then just end up blubbering like a baby. Which, surprisingly, prompts Sam to start crying too. Soon, we've both stopped crying and are giggling hysterically on the floor.

"I'm sorry!" we both say at the same time, and then we hug. Everything feels pretty normal again. I wipe the dripping mascara from my eyes, and Sam searches in her bag for a pack of tissues. "Here, Shay. Take one; you look like a mess," she says, giving me one. It's soon covered in black.

"How does your mascara not smudge?" I ask her, crumpling it and tossing it into the trash can. Her face still looks perfect. A little wet, but perfect.

"It's waterproof. Get some," she laughs. I laugh, too, because I never thought Sam would be the one to give me makeup advice. I make her stand up and twirl around to show off her dress. It's obvious how much she loves it.

"You look great, Sam," I say with a smile, "Freddie's gonna love it on you."

"You really think so?" she asks, blushing slightly. Now _that_ is something new. "And Carly?"

"Yeah."

"Don't tell anyone else about, you know, me and Freddie. We're not really ready for people to know."

"Okay. So I'm the only other person who knows?" I say, feeling rather privledged.

"Not exactly."

"Who else knows?" I ask, surprised. Sam's a very private person.

"We might have been caught making out . . . by Mrs. Benson."

"Oh my gosh! What happened?" And then Sam dives into all the details, and just like that we're best friends again.

**Oh, and no one has gotten the international sign of not speaking right yet, so keep sending in your guesses with your reviews!**

**xo, Chantal**


	14. iPaparrazzi

**Eeep! It's been a loooong time since I updated. Life gets crazy here at boarding school, sorry. But I have one quickie request: if you like this story, please read my other iCarly one (A Game of Music). Please?**

"Carly. Carly! CARLY, STOP!" I scream, while she chases me around her apartment like a maniac. It's two o'clock in the afternoon on the day of the eTeen Awards, and she is trying to get me to put on hot pink liquid eyeliner. Why? I have no idea. I duck under the table and stare her down. "Carly, put the wand down!"

Carly holds up her skinny wand and grins. "Get over here! Come on, you'll look so cute!" I sigh. This isn't worth it. I motion at her with one finger. She claps and runs over to me.

"Please make this quick." I close my eyes and feel the brush dance across my lids. I reach around blindly to try to find a chair to sit down in while it dries. I find one. I pull it out. My ass misses it by a mile and slams to the floor with a big whump. "Ow," I say, trying to get up. But because I can't see, I hit my head on the counter.

"God, Sam, just open your eyes!" says Carly. They take a moment to refocus, but then I see my best friend standing there, holding a bag of frozen peas from her fridge so I can ice my head. "Thanks," I mutter, rubbing it tenderly for a moment before placing the cold on it. It really hurts. But I'm not saying anything; I don't want anyone thinking Sam Puckett is a softie.

Spencer suddenly appears in the foyer, camera in one hand and giant plastic apple in the other. Carly and I both cock our heads in confusion.

"Sculpture," he says, lifting up the hand with the apple. "What happened to your head?"

"I hit it on the table," I say plainly. I hope there's not going to be a lump. I can only imagine how that would look on camera. In front of millions. Wow. I still can't believe we're going to be on live television.

"Who hit what on the table?" asks Freddie as he walks in, his psychotic mother on his tail. She glares at me.

I toss the peas onto the table. The pain as kind of subsided. "It's nothing," I say, trying to brush it off. "I just hit my head on the table after I fell." Freddie, not taking the clue that I don't want a big fuss over it, comes over and examines my head. "Are you sure you're okay?" he asks, looking concerned. I smile at him. It's so cute how worried he is.

"I'm fine."

"Okay then! Let's get to the picture taking!" says Spencer, obviously attempting to clear the awkward that is now hanging in the air. Mrs. Benson looks like she wants to roast my head for dinner. "The limo should be outside at three to take you guys over to the theater. Why don't you guys try standing over by the window. Natural light is good for photos." The three of us troop over and end up surrounded by crazy-colored sculpture that has spray painted plastic forks all over it. So much for being natural.

"Smile!" The three of us force it until Mrs. Benson's shutter stops going. Spencer only took one picture of his own, and then several for the iCarly site. "Wait, one more!" I say, tossing my PearPhone at him. Carly and Freddie both look at me, confused.

"I'm not the sentimental type," I mutter, "but it's nice to have my own picture." This time, our smiles are real. My phone beeps as Spencer tosses it back to me. I read the text. "Limo's here. We should head downstairs."

Spencer pulls us all in for one big hug. "Knock 'em dead, kiddos. Me and Socko will be watching, live from the couch, in our jammies!" he says in his obnoxious Girly Cow impression. We all roll our eyes.

"We'll see you later," says Carly, reaching for her tiny clutch and handing me my own. "Let's go." The three of us file into the elevator and head down to the lobby. Freddie puts my hand in his. It's warm, and it makes my toes tingle. He looks really good tonight; he's got on a grey suit that has a slight metallic touch to it, along with a white button down and a silky light blue tie. Carly looks at us lovingly and murmurs something about us being an adorable couple. I'm glad she's finally on board with our relationship.

My eyes widen as we all get out of the elevator. Lewbert's screaming at a mob that's developed in the lobby. There must be at least fifty paparrazzi and reporters scuffing up his tiles. He shrieks when he sees us.  
"THEY'RE HERE! NOW GET OUT OF MY LOBBY, YOU CRAZIES!" he screams, causing the three of us to be encircled by them all. We try to make our way through; it's no use. "Why are they here?" Carly whispers uncer her breath as we weave through them all.

"I don't know," Freddie replies, breaking through them all to the glass doors. We spy the limo and run for it, cameras hot on our heels. The driver is holding the door open, and we pile in. The sunroof is open, so we pop our heads out and shout goodbye to them all. It's kind of a cute idea, in my opinion. As we drive off, Carly makes an announcement.

"Guys, I think we might be a little famous."

**I really hope you guys like the chapter! Happy November to you all.**

**xo, Chantal**


	15. iPress

**I am such a bad girl. *hangs head* The holiday ballet took up 99% of my free time, so I really couldn't update. Now that it's over + I don't have to be back in London for two weeks, I should be able to get a few chapters done. **

The limo ride to the theater is short; we spent the time singing along to the radio. Well really, only Carly and Sam sang. I've been told (by Sam) that I have the voice of a dying sparrow. When we reach the theater, the noise outside of the limo becomes amplified. The driver opens the door for us, and we're greeted by hundreds of screaming fans.

"Whoa," Sam mutters under her breath. She squeezes my hands and steps out, being careful to not get her heels caught in the grate next to the red carpet. God, she looks amazing tonight. Sky high black stilettos, sparkly chandelier earrings, tight white dress that makes her butt look amazing . . . how did I land myself a girlfriend from heaven? She winks at me as we follow a lady with a headset to the photo pit.

The three of us pose for the photographers that are screaming our names. Lights are blinding us, but we've been prepared by those paparazzos before. What amazes me is how many screaming fans are here; there are kids our age everywhere I look. After we're freed from the cameras, we walk down the velvet ropes and sign autographs. Lots of people have group shots of the three of us, but plenty of girls have solo shots of me. I'm flattered; Sam is pissed.

"Hi guys!" chirps Michelle, appearing out of nowhere, "Would you mind doing a few interviews before heading inside to prep for the opening number?" We nod. "Great! Carly, come with me. Sam, Freddie - follow Sophie," she replies, grabbing Carly by the shoulder. Her eyes are wide as the eTeen Awards director leads her away from the two of us. We're left standing with headset lady from before.

She smiles at us, baring her shiny white veneers. "Hi guys, I'm Sophie. Follow me." She leads us towards a suited guy with a microphone and three person camera crew. Sam seems worried. I rub her arm encouragingly. "Don't worry about it, babe," I whisper.

"Don't call me babe," she whispers back angrily. But now she's smiling.

The man extends his hand to us as the camera guy starts his X-F2 Sonibatchi video camera. (Man, I would kill for one!) "Hi guys, I'm Brian Carlton of _Hollywood News Now_," he says, smiling into his microphone. I think everyone in the entertainment business has veneers. Maybe I should get some. Then my mom won't always be on me for my teeth brushing habits.

"Sam Puckett," she says. My girlfriend blushes when he kisses her hand. Suave move, dude. Now don't push it.

"Freddie Benson. Nice to meet you, Brian," I say, shaking his hand.

Brian smiles at us. "The pleasure is mine. iCarly has a teen phenomenon. How does that feel?"

Sam takes the opportunity to talk. She clearly likes being in front of the camera. "Well, Brian, iCarly is just a fun thing we do. The fact that people like our comedy is just the icing on the cake." She laughs a little. It sounds nervous. I add on to what she's said with some mumbo-jumbo about how honored we are and all that jazz.

The interview moves by rather quickly. The questions are easy: how do you come up with your sketches? Where do you get inspiration? Would you ever consider going on a comedy tour? Sophie signals to Brian that he has one minute left. Brian smiles at us. "So . . . are there any sparks between any of the iCarly team members off-camera?" He pushes his microphone a little closer. Sam and I look at each other.

"You know, sometimes guys and girls can just be friends," Sam jokes with Brian. His camera guy stops filming while we're laughing. "Great interview, you guys," he says. "Nice meeting you."

"Nice meeting you, too," we chime as Sophie takes us away. We do a few interviews with print reporters, including people from _The Seattle Tribune _and _Web Weekly._ I keep trying to pinch myself to make sure I'm not dreaming. Today has been so cool, and it's not even halfway over. Sam and I walk inside the theater. A show assistant whisks us away to the backstage area to start getting ready for the show. We both change into our outfits for the opening segment.

I walk back into the dressing room after changing into my green-and-white striped shirt and jeans to find Sam playing with her hair in the mirror. She looks cute in her navy blue halter dress and sandals. I sneak up behind her and wrap my arms around her waist. She jumps.

"Hi," I whisper. I brush her hair so it's all draped over one shoulder. Then I kiss her neck right beneath her ear. She shivers, and I see her bite her lip through her reflection in the mirror. I know she doesn't want to admit that she likes it.

Eventually she gives in and lets out a little moan. I twirl her around and kiss her hungrily on the mouth. She responds by wrapping her arms around my neck and pulling me closer to her. Our hands start to roam, and just when we're really going to lose it we hear a cry of "Gross!"

The two of us jump back, startled. Carly is standing there with her hands on her hips, fully dressed for her part of the opening segment. We both stare at her, trying to look innocent. She doesn't buy it. She turns on her heel and heads out the door. As she leaves, we can hear her muttering.

"They really should get a room."

**I hope this makes up for my recent disappearance. I'll try to post another chapter tomorrow. Please review!**

**xoxo, Chantal**


	16. iBackstage

**Gosh, where does the time go? I have issues with writing chapters, and saying I'll edit them. Then it takes way longer to edit them than expected O.o Sorry!**

I stand in the wings of the stage, playing my hair and listening to the audience. Michelle mentioned that Taylor Swift and Justin Bieber was here, and the cast of _Life Unexpected_, and I think she even said that Beckhams were here with their kids. I don't think I've ever been around this many real celebrities. I mean, Sam and Freddie and I have been around a bunch of web celebrities at Webicon and we met some of the nominees backstage, but there are _real_ celebrities in the audience.

"Carly? I need to check your mic," says one stage assistant, putting down his clipboard and muttering something into his headset. Everyone backstage seems to have them, screaming things in them while running back and forth.

"Oh, okay," I say. He makes sure the minature microphone is securely attached to my ruffled white blouse and is synched to the switchboard. He smiles at me. "You're all good. Do you know where Sam and Freddie are?" He scratches his arm. "I can't find them anywhere."

I giggle inwardly. "Try the dressing rooms again," I say, reaching for my PearPhone as he walks off. I dash a quick text to Sam to let them know assistant number four is on his way. She texts me back a smiley face. A smiley face! When has Sam Puckett ever texted someone a smiley face?

Probably when she started dating Freddie.

It's still weird to think that my two best friends are dating. I mean, they used to hate each others' guts, then they tolerated each others' guts, and now they've moved on to sucking each others' guts out through their mouths. At least they're happy. Both of them have had some pretty awful relationships in the past. Mrs. Benson appears out of nowhere, completely out of breath. "Have you seen Freddie?" she shrieks. "I can't find him anywhere! Is he with that awful blonde?" Her eyes are wide and she looks a bit pissed off.

"Um, a stage assistant just went to look for them. Why?" I ask, playing with the charm bracelet Spencer made for me as a good luck gift. I really like it; he made all of the charms out of old glass he got from a vintage store.

"Because . . . I need to fix his hair. I'm sure that skinny hair man did something awful to it!" Freddie's mom looks a bit worried. I don't think she's realized that Freddie is sixteen, not six. Just as she says that, Sam and Freddie appear behind her.

"MOM! My hair is fine," complains Freddie, touching it just to make sure. Sam looks at him. "Your hair looks great," she says, her eyes getting all starry-like, just like when we talked in the dress shop. She really does like Freddie, I guess. But it's still weird.

Mrs. Benson points a finger at Sam. "Don't you tell my son how his hair looks! That's my job!" she says, her eyes full of anger. Someone isn't on the love boat that's sailing out of the harbor. The same stage assistant appears again. "Sam, Carly, Freddie - I need you all to come with me. Miss, you may want to go take your seat now. The show starts in ten minutes," he says, motioning for her to leave.

"Ta, Marissa!" trills Sam, waving her left hand. Her arm is wrapped around Freddie's waist. Mrs. Benson almost snarls as she leaves through the side door. Sam wraps her other arm around my waist and puts her head on my shoulder. "That was fun," she murmurs as we follow the stage assistant. I should probably learn his name.

"Here's the green room," he says, opening a door for us. There's a bunch of couches, a table of food, and a radio blaring Katy Perry in one corner. The other presenters are sitting around. We all met at the full run-through yesterday afternoon. "You guys can wait here until someone comes to get you for the opening number."

"Okay, thanks," I say, perching on the arm of one of the couches. He walks away, barking something into his headset. Sam and Freddie sit down next to me, with Sam practically sitting in Freddie's lap. Gross. "Hey guys?" I whisper, leaning forward. "If you want to keep the dating thing a secret, you might want to leave at least an inch of room between the two of you on the couch."

I've never seen two people jump away from each other so fast.

**I _love_ backstage mayhem. Such a rush. Lots of love from my dorm room in London.**

**xo, Chantal**


	17. iOpening

**I am soooo sorry I haven't updated the past couples weeks. Boarding school is a crazy place . . . great college prep. But there's so much drama + rehersals! My bad. I hope this chapter makes up for it :)**

We're standing in the wings, bouncing up and down on the balls of our feet like maniacs. The opening segment is playing out right before us. But this isn't rehersal, this is reality. Opening night, closing night - it's all the same. One shot to make it big on TV, unlike that shitty attempt at turning iCarly into a TV show.

The performers onstage, the cast of The Moonlight Saga, suddenly shout "HERE ARE YOUR HOSTS OF THE eTEEN AWARDS, THE STARS OF iCARLY! PLEASE WELCOME SAM PUCKETT, FREDDIE BENSON, AND CARLY SHAY!" They run offstage as we run on with our gaggle of personal iCarly cheerleaders (the Ridgeway cheerleaders in magenta and blue cheering outfits) all around us. The applause from the audience is deafening. I look to my right and see Freddie and Carly smiling as widely as I am.

"Thank you, thank you," I say cheerfully as the clapping dies down. "I'm sure you all know us from our web show, iCarly."

"And if you don't, you probably have been hiding under a rock!" quips Carly. The audience chuckles. Hey, is that Khloe Kardashian sitting in the front row? So cool.

"Tonight, we're all here to honor the best of the best here in the web world," says Freddie.

"All of the voting has been done by real teens like all of you watching . . ." I say, turning to look at Carly and Freddie.

". . . because you know what show this is!" we all shout together. The cheerleaders gather around us, shaking their pompoms while we rip the velcroed outfits off our bodies, revealing Carly's and my own magenta body suits and Freddie's tuxedo. We turn to break into song, and then pretend to act confused.

Carly and I band together and put our hands on our hips. "FREDDIE!" we say in unison, feigning being annoyed. We try to pout.

"We agreed on doing the ninja segment," I say, shaking the black headbands that a cheerleader handed to me in his face. I smirk, showing off my uber-glossy lips. He winks at me.

"We all know that the red carpet sketch is better," he counters back, shaking his hips. The audience roars with laughter as he breaks into his little unchoreographed dance. He looks so stupid, but it's stupidly cute. I love it. He's adorable.

"Well . . . what do you guys think?" Carly asks the audience, with a big smile. Their jumbled reply makes us all laugh. Carly and I pop our hips, showing off our smooth (Spanxed. Shhhh . . .) butts. Freddie does a little more of his dance, this time choreographed. Carly and I pretend to watch for a minute and learn it, and then we join in. A moment later, the cheerleaders start dancing with us and make their flyer pyramids and all that. At the end, confetti cannons go off, along with sparklers and fireworks. The three of us toss our hands up into V's and smile.

"We have a great show for you planned tonight!" I say, clapping.

"There are a ton of special guests backstage!" Carly shouts.

"Stick around!" Freddie says. The cheerleaders shake their pompoms and giggle until an assistant shouts "Clear!" We walk offstage, away from the cameras. In the wings, we all high five and laugh. Some of the nervous presenters backstage tell us how good we did. A woman from wardrobe whisks us off to change into our next outfits.

"Hey Sam?" Freddie says, as he's being pulled away.

"Yeah?" I shout back.

"Your ass looks amazing in that body suit."

I smile. This is going to be a good night.

**I hope you guys like the opening segment of the eTeen Awards! Please read + review. Happy early Valentine's Day!**

**xo, Chantal**


	18. iDiscussion

**Hey guys. Sorry for the lack of updates. If you don't read my other story, just to fill you in, I'm really homesick as of recently and haven't been motivated to write too much as of recently. But here we go. Sorry if this sucks.**

I'm leaning against the stage door, pretending to listen to this ditzy blonde girl who lost the award for Favorite One-Hit Wonder (she did this stupid movie spoof) as she chats away frivolously. I nod at the appropriate time in her story and give her a grim smile when I should have laughed. But I don't really care. Talking to this nut job of a girl, I'm realizing just how lucky I am to have Sam as a girlfriend. I'm sure plenty of people would say I'm crazy; talk to myself a few months ago and I would have said the same thing. Everything's changed.

I don't was _us_ to have to be a secret.

I want to hold her close to me in front of everyone. I want to take her to prom. I want to kiss her in the rain. I want to be her labor monkey when her mother won't call a plumber. Hell, I want to be her personal chef and make that girl all the meat she wants. I love her, plain and simple.

She, on the other hand, is dead-set against it all. Sam likes the mystery and suspense of a secret relationship. She feels like a ninja. I mean, I want her to be happy and all, but I have needs too. I'm half of the equation. We need to talk and I can't find her.

Suddenly she appears from around the corner, dressed in her final outfit of the night, a beautiful burnt orange silk mini dress and bronze stilettos. It's finale of the show. We have to go take our seats in the audience, since we're nominees for Webshow of the Year. I excuse myself from blondie and run over to Sam, who is playing with her microphone string. We each have one running down our backs. It's so much easier than big microphones, according to the show coordinators. Whatever.

"Hey there," she coos, leaning against the wall and extending her tanned legs out, making them look miles long. Damn, she is gorgeous. How did I get so lucky?

"Hi," I say softly, taking her hand. We walk down the short hallway towards the audience bay. As she reaches for the door, I stop and pull her back. She looks at me, agitation and confusion in her eyes. "I can't do this anymore," I mutter. She pulls away, eyes now filled with hurt.

"What do you mean?" Sam whisper-yells. She places one hand on her hip and smirks. She thinks I'm breaking up with her.

I shake my head. "I can't do this secret thing anymore, Sam. I just can't," I say. "I'm not one to lie."

"It's not lying. It's just not admitting."

"What if I want to admit it?"

"Why?"

"Why? Why wouldn't I?" I ask, looking her in the eye. I think I'm the only one not afraid to.

"I . . . I dunno."

"I love you, Sam. I want the world to know."

"I love you too, Freddie. But can we talk about this later? I mean, the show is going on! We have to be in our seats, like, negative three seconds ago." We walk through the side doors to find a camera man standing there with his currently transmitting camera in our faces. The entire theater is silent. Carly is standing by our seats. Everyone is looking our way.

"Hello?" Sam says questioningly. We both look to the eTeen Award winner for this award last year, Jenna Foxx, who is onstage. She smiles at us and steps slightly forward, her eyes twinkling.

"Your mikes are still on."

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter.**

**xo, Chantal**


	19. iPlan

**Hello guys! I hope y'all are enjoying your week so far. I know I am; I just found out I got casted as one of the major roles in our SCHOOL WIDE ballet, which is huge considering the talent in our ballet department and I'm only a year ten :) So I had to give you guys something . . . your second to last chapter. Yup, next chapter will be our last. I had an amazing ride with y'all.**

I look at Sam and Freddie standing in the doorway with the deer in the headlights look, trying so hard not to laugh. This couldn't have worked even better than if I had planned it myself. Oh wait, I did. While they stammer and stutter and try to explain to the American public what just happened, let me indulge y'all in good ol' Carly Shay's master plan.

Once Sam and Freddie finally admitted that they were dating, I have to say I was stunned. I mean, they never seemed to be compatible by any of their usual standards. Freddie is sweet, caring, smart, and technologically advanced . . . Sam isn't. Sam is devious, evil, naughty, and always in trouble for something . . . Freddie isn't. So the fact that they found love - with each other - just had to mean that they were soul mates. Even their astrological signs matched up! (I would know, I checked online.) Everything was falling into place. They just didn't want to tell people about it. They needed to.

When they didn't crack under the fake reporter, Brian, I had to manipulate Mrs. Benson into going backstage. It wasn't that difficult to convince her that the hair and makeup artists would ruin Freddie's perfect good boy look that she's worked so hard to build up over the years. But they didn't break around her, either. Luckily, Mr. Stage Assistant who seemed to appear everywhere and everywhere else and even where he didn't need to be was willing to pull a few strings and get Freddie and Sam's microphones to stay on during the commercial break. Oops.

"Well, why don't we congratulate our winners of Webshow of the Year, Carly Shay, Sam Puckett, and Freddie Benson of iCarly!" Jenna says with fake enthusiasm. They audience roars with applause as we walk up onto the stage, but you can tell they just want to hear what we . . . well, Sam and Freddie have to say. I thank Jenna under my breath as I take our fourth crystal statuette of the night (Yes, that's right. We swept the comedy category.) and step aside, leaving the stage microphone open for the two of them. I nudge Sam forward with my heel and nod slightly. She looks slightly confused.

"Thank you," she mouths to me and smiles slightly. Freddie wraps his arm around her waist. They seem so perfect. How did _I_, queen of the matchmaking, not see this before? I listen like the rest of the world as they admit that yes, they are dating, and yes, they are madly in love.

Okay, they might not have used those words. I like to embellish.

Sam shifts back and forth in her heels. "I just want to say thank you to Carly," she says as they are winding down their mini-speech. There really isn't much more to say that hasn't already been thrown on the table. "If she hadn't been so stupid around those escaped convicts, I'm not sure I would be where I am today." A few cameras flash as we hug one final time and wave into the TV cameras as the credits roll - metaphorically speaking.

A minute later, "CLEAR!" is shouted and everyone begins moving around. A few people wave to us or shout their congratulations, but we're not really listening. Sam and Freddie look at me questioningly.

"Okay Shay, spill it. How'd it work?" Sam asks as we start back towards the dressing rooms. I skip ahead and look back over my shoulder.

"I have no clue what you're talking about!"

**I'm off to study and stretch. Ta for now!**

**xo, Chantal**


	20. iOops

**Hello lovelies.**

**I'm sorry there haven't been updates for . . . well, a while. School life is busy, and my education / training come first. I'll be back in the States in a few weeks, and I promise to get right back to updating then.**

**I feel like I wrote this same note last year. Oops.**

**xo, Chantal**


	21. iEnding

**I am so, so sorry that this epilogue took forever to write. Not only did I want this to go out with a bang, but I had the oppertunity to train in Russia for a few weeks, which was something I could NOT pass up. But without further adieu, I give you your final chapter.**

I don't think Hollywood writes stories as well as reality does.

The end of school came and went. I managed to not have to go to summer school by some miracle called studying. Who knew? Straight C's, but I was quite impressed with myself. So was my boyfriend. Man, I love that word! I used to think that people who were in love got all mushy and soft, but I'm not. I still tease Freddie, but it's only because I love him. If only I had known that all along . . .

_iCarly_ has been doing better than ever, thanks to all the _eTeen_ buzz we've gotten. Each of us took one of the trophies home and the other in proudly displayed in the studio, where it can be seen by million-plus viewers we've been getting as of recently. We've been busy making shorts and videos - when Freddie and I aren't making out.

Mrs. Benson is trying her hardest to not puke whenever I come over. She even made us steaks one night and watched a G-rated cartoon movie with us. As much as I wanted to die the whole night, it was a really nice gesture.

Carly has become totally cool with her best friends dating. In fact, she has a boyfriend of her own now! We double-date a lot. His name is Mark, and we actually met him at the _eTeen _awards. He does a baking show online and makes an awesome creme brulee. I made him teach Freddie how to make it so he could make it for me. It's fantastic.

Life is good. I like a bumpy ride. If it was a straight path, I'd be here and gone and out. But twists and turns . . . man, they make it fun! I like fun almost as much as I like meat.

But I think I might love Freddie more than all of that.

**Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it and are freaking out for iLost My Mind in a few weeks. Much love.**

**xo, Chantal**


End file.
